


Something Else

by shessocold



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Best Friends, Blow Jobs, Breakfast, Caradoc Has A Big Cock, Erections, Established Relationship, Established Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, First War with Voldemort, Hand Jobs, Happy Sex, Jealousy, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Masturbation, No Angst, One Night Stands, Oral Sex, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sequel, Sexual Fantasy, Shameless Smut, Smut, Talking, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, True Love, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-05 03:03:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14034759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shessocold/pseuds/shessocold
Summary: What Remus wants, Sirius gives a shot to.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LuminousGloom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuminousGloom/gifts).



> This is an alt-canon sequel to this [story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14023731). I'm gifting it to LuminousGloom because she bullied me into writing it -- bullied me WITH LOVE.

“Dearborn.”

“Black.” 

Dearborn is sitting on the bench by the backdoor of Headquartes, a beer in his hand. He doesn't offer Sirius one, nor does he motion for him to sit down. Sirius stands awkwardly in front of him. 

“Do you, er, want a smoke?” 

Deaborn lifts an eyebrow. 

“Why, have you come up with some clever new way to leave me completely humiliated?” 

Sirius clears his throat. 

“See, about that, I'm sorry. I was pretty drunk. I shouldn't have done that.” 

Dearnborn shrugs. 

“It's all good. I shouldn't have asked. I guess I'm lucky you didn't decide to punch me instead.” 

“To be fair I _was_ sort of, you know. Sort of leading you on.” 

“That you were,” agrees Dearborn, with a snort of laughter. “You're a pretty good actor, I have to give you credit for that. But like I said, it's all good. I'm not stupid enough to hold a grudge over something like this, not when we have a bloody war to win.” 

“Right. Good.” 

A brief pause. 

“Sit down, c'mon, don't stand there like an idiot. How come Remus's not around tonight?” 

Sirius winces. 

“He's off on a, er, on a diplomatic mission. In the north. Dumbledore's orders. ” 

“Oh. Boy, I wish he didn't have to.” 

“Yeah,” says Sirius, and he sits down. “Me too. Speaking of Remus being gone...” 

Dearborn does a spit-take. 

“What, you've decided to seduce me on your own?” he asks, grinning broadly. 

Sirius glares at him. 

“OK, _this_ is when you get punched, if you're not careful.” 

“All right, all right, sorry. What were you going to say?” 

“I want to set up something special for him, OK? For when he gets back. So I thought I'd sound you out, you know. See if you're still interested.” 

“Ah, but I thought that you – how was it – oh, yes, 'really, _really_ didn't like to share'.” 

“That's not how I talk!” 

“That's _definitely_ how you talk, Black.” 

Sirius makes a scoffing noise. Dearborn takes a swig of his beer. 

“I mean, it's true, I don't want to share,” says Sirius, eventually. “But Remus has this... this fantasy that I think I could be OK with. Do you want to hear about it?” 

Dearborn grins. 

“Why, yes, I want to hear _everything_ about Remus' fantas... blimey, Black, don't look at me like you're planning to rip my head off, I was joking!” 

Sirius, with considerable effort, unclenches his fists. 

“He wants to watch me and you together,” he mutters, looking pointedly away from Dearborn. “Which sounds insane to me, if I'm being honest, and also likely to evolve into a duel, but there you have it. The idea really turns him on, for some reason.” 

“Right. And what about you?” 

“Huh?” 

“Does the idea turn you on, at least a bit?” 

“I'm asking, aren't I?” 

“We both know why you're asking – and that's very nice of you, I suppose, but also not even remotely good enough a reason to do this, if you're gonna hate every minute of it. Not to mention, there's no way I'm letting you get near my bits when you look like you do now – you've got awfully sharp teeth, do you know that? It's pretty scary.” 

Sirius grins in spite of himself. 

“Yeah, I know. I'm glad you noticed.” 

“I've noticed a lot of things about you, kid. Some of them non-terrifying, even.” 

“Huh.” 

A pause. 

“Listen, Dearborn, do you _really_ like Remus?” 

“What?” 

“Do you like him? If you could – and you can't – would you like him to be your boyfriend?” 

Dearborn looks genuinely taken aback by the question, which lifts a considerable weight off Sirius' chest. 

“I... er, no offense, but – how do I word this? Even if you weren't around, and you very much are, he's really _much_ too young for me. He's fun, and he's obviously very fit, but he's, you know – a kid. Like you.” 

“We're twenty,” says Sirius, trying very hard to keep a straight face in spite of the overwhelming, exhilarating relief that he's feeling. “That's not _that_ young.” 

Dearborn grins. 

“Wait till you're thirty-two, Black, and then you'll realize that twenty is much, much too young to keep around on a steady basis, at least for, er, sentimental purposes.” 

Sirius snorts. 

“Sentimental purposes, I see. Good to know. But how about a shag?” 

“Well, my standards for a one-off shag are much more relaxed, you see. Especially when the prospective partner is as fit as you are.” 

Sirius swallows. 

“Ah, er, thank you.” 

Dearborn laughs. 

“C'mon, Black, are you really blushing? Do you not own any mirrors? Surely you get people swooning over you all the time.” 

“Fuck off, I'm not blushing. I just didn't think that you were into _my_ looks.” 

“I think you'd be hard pressed to find someone who's not into your looks, honestly. But even beyond that... the way you spoke to me at the pub, Merlin, that was something else. I had this wild idea, just for a second, that you were going to go ahead and kiss me, right there in front of everyone.” 

“Yeah, er, that's apparently the same impression that Remus had.” 

“Really? And he liked it?” 

Sirius grins. 

“Boy, did he ever. He wouldn't shut up about it.” 

Dearborn closes his eyes. 

“OK, Black, if your plan was to snatch the offer away from me at last second _again_ , this is definitely the right time to do it.” 

He has an erection, Sirius notices, and the idea causes a stirring in his trousers, as well. 

_I can't wait to tell Moony,_ he thinks, delighted. _He'll want all the details, the pervert._

“I promise I won't,” he says, his eyes still on the outline of Dearborn's hard cock. “Mind, I can't guarantee that anything will happen, either. Maybe it'll turn out that Remus only likes _the idea_ of it – maybe he will jinx you into a jelly the moment you lay a finger on me.” 

Dearborn laughs. 

“Don't sound so hopeful,” he says, leaning in closer. “That's not very polite.” 

“This is not a very polite proposition I'm making, either.” 

“True, but to your credit it's an extremely flattering one. So, tell me, when does Remus come back?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies to people who are twenty, but I'm with Caradoc on this one.


	2. Chapter 2

Caradoc wakes up early, which is unusual for him, and in a cheerful mood, which is virtually unheard of. _Boy – lovely dream I was having,_ he thinks, yawning, and then (his eyes very wide all of a sudden), _wait, that thing with Black_ wasn't _a dream, was it?_

A brief search reveals Black and Lupin's address on a folded piece of parchment in the front pocket of his trousers. _Yup, definitely not a dream_ , he thinks, tracing Black's improbably elaborate handwriting with his finger. _Well, Dearborn, in light of this new information, I think you know what you must do._

** 

Motivated chiefly by the memory of Black's rather impressive upper arms, and not without a good deal of muttered swearing, Caradoc manages a grand total of six push-ups before giving up the whole thing as a bad job. _I mean, they've seen me in short sleeves before, they know what they're getting into, right? Maybe they fancy spindly blokes, who am I to judge. Right. Time for breakfast, I think._

“Awfully chirpy today, are we, Caradoc?” says Benjy, over the sound of spitting bacon. “I have to say, it's a strange look on you. Vaguely unsettling.” 

“Aw, don't worry,” says Caradoc, summoning the butter dish from across the kitchen table. “I don't think it'll last. I've gotten myself involved into an especially ill-advised scheme, you see.” 

Benjy laughs. 

“OK, that sounds more like you. Can I have the details, or is it wiser for me to stay in the dark?” 

Caradoc thinks about it. 

“Probably the latter,” he says, munching on his toast. “But on the other hand, I really feel like bragging, so– ” 

“If it turns out that it's just a story about you shagging someone,” cautions Benjy, wagging his spatula at Caradoc, “I will be _extremely_ disappointed. I demand intrigue.” 

“It's not a story about me shagging someone, it's a story about me getting _propositioned_.” 

“All right, that's decently intriguing. Propositioned by whom? And _when_? You got home at like half past ten last night!” 

“Sirius Black,” says Caradoc, sounding just as smug as he's feeling. “At like a quarter to ten, at Headquarters. Benjy, honestly, there is no rule saying that people have to wait until a suitable late hour to make advances. You should always be prepared.” 

“Wait, Black? I thought he was living with Lupin.” 

“Oh, he is.” 

Benjy makes a face. 

“Mind, it's none of my business, but that _does_ sound especially ill-advised. I thought you were kidding about that part.” 

“Cheer up, it's not like that. Black was acting on Lupin's orders, turns out. They want me to go to their flat and get it on with Black while Lupin watches. Apparently, that's what Lupin likes.” 

Benjy blinks a couple of times. 

“All right. Well, that makes my story about falling asleep in front of the telly sound even less interesting by contrast. It's always the innocent looking ones, isn't it? Remus Lupin. I would never have guessed, not in a million years.” 

Caradoc grins. 

“Right? That's exactly what I thought. OK, sit down, I want to go through the whole thing in excruciating detail and I need your full attention.” 

“Terribly sorry,” says Benjy, turning back to the stove, “I would love to, as I'm sure you can imagine, but I need to make sure the bacon doesn't burn.” 

“You know, I really don't get why you insist on using that spatula thing instead of, you know, your wand. Like a normal person.” 

“There's an art to cooking, Caradoc,” says Benjy, with a sigh. “And magic, at least in this particular field, is a poor excuse for skill. Speaking of skill, what did you do exactly to convince those two to choose you, of all people? Put them under the Imperius curse? I don't think Moody would approve.” 

“I like to think that it's my rugged handsomeness,” says Caradoc, rubbing his stubbly cheek. “That, or they were feeling charitable, you know – being nice to the elderly.” 

Benjy snorts. 

“How old are they, then, craddle robber? They do look awfully young.” 

“Black said that they're twenty, I suppose he was telling the truth – well, they're done with school, anyway, that I know for sure. I think they were in the same year as my cousin Mary.” 

“Ah, yes, your cousin Mary. Your cousin Mary who was born while we were already, what was it, in our second year? Lovely kid, that one.” 

Caradoc grimaces. 

“Fuck's sake, mate, stop it. You're ruining my, er, my _appetite_ ,” he says, in dignified tone. 

Benjy grins. 

“All right, I'm sorry. I was just giving you a hard time – nobody in their right mind would turn down an offer like that, I don't think. Well. Do you think they could find a friend for me? Possibly just as fit as they are. Possibly of the female persuasion. Possibly _not_ your cousin Mary, I still remember when she wore pigtails. Right. Bacon?” 

** 

_Remus will be back on Thursday. Would Saturday night be OK for you? Cheers, Sirius._

“Benjy, do I have anything planned for Saturday?” yells Caradoc. “Quick, I have an owl waiting.” 

“How should I know?” yells Benjy, from inside the shower. “I'm not your bloody secretary.” 

“He actually is,” says Caradoc, conspiratorially, to Black's owl, “he just hasn't realized yet.” The owl blinks, his leg held out patiently. Caradoc grins. “All right, let me find a quill, I bet Black told you to make absolutely sure that there's a repl– hey! Where are you going! Get back here, I don't have a owl of my... oh, well, fuck it, then. Benjy? Can I borrow your owl? This one has the same sense of humour as his owner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benjy is Muggle-born.


	3. Chapter 3

A knock on the front door.

“Well, that'll be him, I suppose,” says Sirius, rolling his eyes. “Late, of course. How inconsiderate. Honestly, I was starting to hope he had gotten struck by lightning on his way over.” 

Remus grins. 

“What a change of tune from 'I think I might actually enjoy doing this, Moony' and 'you should have seen the size of that thing, I swear'. Do you want me to send him away?” 

“No, let him in. I bet it's not really _that_ impressive once it's out of his pants, it's probably some sort of charm he put on his trousers to trick me.” 

“Right, that seems likely. We definitely need to, er, get to the bottom of this.” 

“Exactly,” says Sirius, nodding. 

A second knock on the door. 

“Coming!” says Remus, and he winks at Sirius. 

** 

“Oh, thank goodness, I was starting to wonder if I had the wrong address,” says Caradoc, with a smile. He's wearing a nice shirt, and also holding a bottle of wine and a biscuit tin. 

“Wow, you got all dressed up,” blurts out Remus. “I mean–” 

“First thing I found in my closet, honestly, so if there's a special threesome dress code that I didn't know about, you'll have to excuse me. Here, these are for you – as in 'you two', not 'you, Remus'. Speaking of being excused, where's Sirius? Hiding somewhere in the hopes of ambushing me?” 

“No need to,” says Sirius, appearing at the end of the hallway. “Good evening, Dearborn. I could take you in fair fight anytime I wanted to. Wait, are those biscuits?” 

** 

“So,” says Caradoc, sitting primly on the sofa, his hands on his thighs, “how does this work, exactly?” 

Sirius, sitting on the other side of Remus, glances sideways at him. Remus squeezes his hand. 

“Well,” he says, pleased by the fact that his voice sounds almost normal, “I thought you could start by giving each other a kiss. If you want to, of course.” 

A brief, not entirely comfortable pause. 

“You look very nice tonight, Sirius,” says Caradoc, eventually, leaning forward slightly, “just the right balance between murderous and incredibly sexy. ” 

Sirius, to Remus' enormous relief, grins. 

“Why, thank you. It takes a certain amount of practice,” he says, his free hand on Remus' tight. “And I have to say, you don't look half-bad, either. I, er, like your shirt. It brings out the colour of your eyes.” 

Both Remus and Caradoc stare at him, bemused. 

“What? I'm trying to be nice!” 

“It's unnerving when you do that, Pads. Just act normally. What do you _really_ want to say?” 

“Right, well, then, if you say so. Dearborn – the whole point of the evening, for me personally, is to see if your cock is really as big as it looked through your trousers the last time I saw you. Because frankly I doubt it is. Hope you don't mind. That said, I actually do like your shirt.” 

Caradoc smirks. 

“Do you want to touch it, Black?” 

“Your shirt? I'd rathe–” 

“My cock,” says Caradoc, in a tone that makes Sirius' eyes go very dark all of a sudden and sends a shiver of pleasure down Remus' spine. “Or better yet, you could suck on it. See just how big it can get.” 

Sirius' questioning gaze finds Remus'. Remus nods, squeezing Sirius' hand again. Sirius moves his other hand from Remus' thigh to Remus' cock, hard and heavy inside his trousers. He grins. 

“All right,” he says, getting to his feet. “In the interest of science, mind you.” 

Caradoc gets up as well, so that he and Sirius are now facing each other. Remus undoes his trousers. Sirius glances sideways at Remus. Caradoc keeps looking at Sirius. Remus stares at the outline of Caradoc's cock – Sirius wasn't joking, it really is huge. He wraps his fingers around his own cock. 

“Like what you see, Remus?” says Caradoc, his eyes still on Sirius. “Does it turn you on?” 

“Yes,” says Remus, biting his lip. 

“Good,” says Caradoc, and he kisses Sirius. Remus moans. Sirius, after another brief glance at Remus, reciprocates Caradoc's kiss in earnest, his fingers tangled in Caradoc's blond hair in the same exact way Remus had fantasized about at the pub. Caradoc's hand is on Sirius' arse, pressing their bodies together. Sirius' cheeks are pink. Caradoc pulls away from the kiss. 

“Merlin, Black, you're so fucking hot,” he says, in a tone that is almost awed. “Are you really going to suck me off?” 

“If Moony wants me to,” says Sirius, his eyes half-closed, his hand pressed to his own conspicuous erection. “I'll do whatever he wants me to.” 

“Do it, love,” says Remus, breathless with excitement. “Let me see you suck his cock.” 

Sirius drops to his knees. Caradoc inhales sharply. Remus, almost on the verge of coming, is forced to give the head of his cock a firm squeeze. Sirius undoes Caradoc's belt, unbuttons and unzips his trousers, lowers his underwear – Caradoc's cock, nestled in a thatch of blond hair, is even bigger than it looked under his clothes. Sirius gasps. Caradoc grins. 

“Does it meet your expectations, gentlemen?” he asks, as he gives it a couple of pulls to bring it to full mast. He sounds quite smug, Remus thinks, and rightfully so. The thing is huge, not to mention beautiful. Sirius is staring at it as if hypnotized. Caradoc laughs. “Well, I'll take that as a yes.” 

Sirius glances once more at Remus. Remus blows him a kiss. Sirius smiles. 

“Ready, Dearborn?” he says, and then – without waiting for Caradoc's answer – he slides the whole thing inside his mouth. Caradoc moans, his eyes closed – Sirius has cocksucking down to an art. Remus watches his beautiful head bob to and fro, his face pink, his brow sweaty. _He's doing this because I told him to,_ he thinks, and it's that exhilarating notion that sends him over the edge, and he comes all over his stomach. Both Sirius and Caradoc are looking at him, which means he must have cried out or something. He grins at them. 

“Go on, don't let me distract you,” he says, reaching for his wand. “I'm just going to clean up this mess.” 

Caradoc grins back, a handful of Sirius' hair grasped tightly in his hand, Sirius' hand on his backside. 

“You're one lucky bastard, Remus,” he says, in a funny voice, his eyes to ceiling. “He's fucking brilliant, god, he's incredible.” 

“Believe me, I know,” says Remus, swelling with pride. “I couldn't be luckier.” 

Sirius increases his pace, his mouth now moving frantically over Caradoc's cock. Caradoc grasps his hair tighter, the muscles in his legs contracting, his handsome face flushed and his mouth open. 

“I'm about to–” he pants, and Sirius goes even faster, and then Caradoc comes, in a stream of cursewords, his golden head thrown back in ecstasy. 

As soon as Caradoc is done, Sirius gets to his feet, winks at Remus, and leaves the room without a word. Caradoc looks at Remus, a vaguely quizzical look on his sweaty, blissed-out face. 

“I don't think he's going to swallow,” offers Remus, and the idea pleases him immensely. 

Sirius walks back into the room, chugging Caradoc's wine directly from the bottle. 

“Sorry about running off like that, I had to, you know.” 

“We know, love,” says Remus, his cock just as hard as it was a few minutes earlier. Sirius beams at him. 

“All right, you know what?” says Caradoc, his underwear back on, plopping himself onto the armchair. “I think that at this point I'd really enjoy watching you fuck your lovely boyfriend, Remus. How about that?” 

Remus looks at Sirius. Sirius nods, his beautiful face alight with desire and love. Remus grins. 

“That can be arranged, I think.” 

Caradoc nods. 

“Excellent. Oh, and another thing – Black?” 

“Yes?” says Sirius, in his bedroom voice. 

Caradoc smirks. 

“Light me a cigarette, please, before you start. Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caradoc is very polite.


End file.
